


Rewind /// Press play /// Rewind

by Lumeha



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (maybe Time kind of misjudged how much pain it was going to create), M/M, Time Is An Entity I Guess ?, according to Time, but sometimes that's needed, in a way I guess this is a weird Soulmate AU, time loops, two broken men break even more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 01:10:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19757515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumeha/pseuds/Lumeha
Summary: It started with a pen falling, and being back in his hand. It started with the sound of plastic against metal dying in the air.Rewind. Press play. Rewind. Again and again and again.(Tony is stuck in Stephen's time loop.)





	Rewind /// Press play /// Rewind

**Author's Note:**

> **Ironstrange bingo** : Time travel  
>  **[Ironstrange prompt #307](https://ironstrangeprompts.tumblr.com/post/184380622034/prompt-307-tony-gets-stuck-in-stephens-time)** : Tony gets stuck in Stephen’s time loop.
> 
> I may or may have not been watching a LP of Silent Hill 4 while writing.

It started innocent enough. 

The sensation that he lost a second, that he didn’t really realize what he was doing ; that his brain was going faster than his body, his thoughts further down the line, and his movements not following. 

His pen fell from his hand, plastic meeting metal and noise focusing him back to the present.

His pen was in his hand.

He blinked. 

\-----

_ Dormammu, I’ve come to bargain. _

\-----

His pen fell.

His pen was in his hand, as if gravity never was a thing. As if nothing happened. 

\-----

_ Dormammu … _

\-----

The sound resonated in his ears and not in the air.

\-----

_ I’ve come… _

\-----

Rewind.

The pen was in his hand.

Press play.

He dropped it, hand shaking, mind racing, trying to understand what was happening. Constructing hypothesis and wondering about his brain and if he finally broke, reality crumbling around him. 

Rewind. Press play.

Again and again in front of his eyes.

He crushed the pen, and it, again, came back as if nothing happened.

Rewind. Press play.

\-----

_ … to bargain. _

\-----

His breath sped up and brutally calmed down again. 

\- FRIDAY, what time is it ?

But his words didn’t leave his mouth. Or did they ? Were they erased by the heavy air ? Uncertainty and fear crawled down his skin, nausea strangled his throat and lungs. If he could not ask FRIDAY… He turned slowly, looked at the time on his screen, his heart beating in his ears, his blood too loud in his body.

Rewind. Press play.

And he saw it go back in time. Saw a little more than a minute evaporate into the ether, as if nothing happened. 

He fell, puppet that no longer had the hand of reality to truly hold him up.

(You never hit the ground)

\-----

_ Dormammu ! _

\-----

A spark caught his eyes, green where it once glowed blue, and time rewinded back. 

\-----

**_Dormammu !_ **

\-----

It took him… He didn’t know how to think about it. Was it an illusion, created to drive him mad ? A time loop, that some magic wannabee trapped him in for a revenge he knew nothing about ? A stroke of bad luck, for a man already beaten ?

But it was there. That spark. When time resetted, it shone, lit up in his chest, mark of an event he had no control over. And, after its light, the echoes of a voice, deep, shaken and broken and confident, resonated around him, despite no one being there.

He needed to get out of there. 

\-----

It always came back to the same point in time, no matter what. At some point, he cut himself, looking at the blood and how the loop affected it. 

(You about killing yourself, just to  _ see _ , too tired of resetting every few minutes)

(Maybe you did. You can’t remember.) 

\-----

It felt like he was living a lifetime in the span of minutes rewinding, his thoughts and mind refusing to stop, aware of what was going on. He thought and thought and thought, chased his own nightmares and tried to dissect time itself. Tried to  _ understand _ . 

(Rewind.

Press play.

Think.

Think. 

**Think.**

And sink your claws deep into the flesh of that voice, low and alien and human ; in his screams and his pain and his confidence and unwavering faith ; sink them deep into this spark of green that surrounds your heart, and try to keep your sanity.)

\-----

**_Dormammu, I’ve come to bargain !_ **

\-----

When his clock finally stopped going back, he didn’t know how to react. He was not sure it was truth, that he was back in the flow of time, back in a reality he thought he knew. 

It was a voice, so different from the echoes he still felt in his bones, that brought him back. 

\- Boss, an unknown energy spike was detected in Hong Kong.

**xoxox**

He learned, hours later, from a man who tried to hide the pain in eyes of storms and seas, that Stephen Strange died and died and died and died, trapped against one infinitely more powerful than they ever were. Apologies fell from Strange’s tears and lips, guilt choking his words and his voice. As if his own pain was worth less than the one he felt responsible of. As if Tony’s pain carried more weight than his own. As if his screams of agony were less than the pain of one lost in an event bigger than himself.

He learned that the universe was whispering through flesh and earth and wind, and that magic was complex science and focused words, geometry and poetry, so far away for the strangling glow of red. He learned the spark of green that lit his heart was Time itself, birthed from the start of worlds and galaxies. He was never supposed to rewind, rewind, rewind, almost breaking under the weight of his own mind. But Time itself willed it, so he could meet its child. 

Time did not care if they lived more years than they should, if their shoulder carried a knowledge of almost madness and whispering futures. They fell for each others, in a heap of jagged edges and golden scars, and in the warmth of their love, they could carry on their fate.


End file.
